Reading The Books: Hunger Games
by taste.the.rainclouds
Summary: What will happen as Mrs.Everdeen, Primrose, Gale, Peeta, Katniss, and Haymitch read The Hunger Games? Set before Catching Fire. Gale/Katniss/Peeta ensues.
1. Return to District Twelve

_I'm home. I should feel happy. But I don't. _

I glance sharply down at our intertwined hands. His face is the same perfect mask of affection that he'd mastered in the arena. _But it wasn't a mask, Katniss. _I swallow the guilt that flows all too easily into my throat, causing me to get choked up.

"Are you alright?"

His monotone voice is what frightens me a little. The concern is gone. It's as if he doesn't care. Why should he? I've just done the unthinkable. Tricked the Capitol. No one can save me now. It won't be long until Snow orders a public execution.

I close my eyes and nod. _One wrong move and I'll be dead... _My grip on Peeta's hand tightens. It's then, I realize, that he isn't looking at me. I feel so stupid as I notice that his eyes are locked on the gathering crowd. His family. "Yeah. Fine," I manage to choke out.

"Okay."

I plaster a false smile onto my face and wave to the people who had watched me murder other children. People who I didn't know, had seen me at my weakest, at my breaking point. People who had seen me kiss Peeta. People who were convinced that we were in love.

_In love. _

Oh, God.

I spot him. Gale's with the rest of his family, located relatively close to my mother and Prim. He waves with a forced grin, and my heart deflates. Haymitch and his stupid, stupid, _stupid_ ideas...Peeta with his stupid, stupid, _stupid_ smiles...And me, with my stupid, stupid, _stupid_ life. I shouldn't be alive. I should be _dead_.

And Prim? What did she think? My mother? Did they all now think that I was hopelessly in love with Peeta Mellark? I smile weakly in their direction as I hear Prim's cheerful albeit nervous laughter.

My teeth grit.

_Snow_. What if he had gotten to Prim?

That will never happen. I won't let it.

"Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen, the victors of the 74th Annual Hunger Games!"

I think it was Effie who said that. I can't be sure, because all Capitol people sound the same to me now. Those squeaky seemingly innocent voices were just masking their internal savage thoughts. Thoughts that led to 22 kids being murdered in an arena. Thoughts that nearly led to _my_ demise.

Peeta nudges me a little. I wince. He's barely even looked at me since...I...broke his heart? I'm Katniss Everdeen. I do not break hearts. Nevertheless, hearts of boys who saved my life when I was young. "We need to go," he nods towards the crowd. "Appearances and all..." His bitterness does not go uynnoticed.

I nod stiffly and allow him my arm. "Peeta - "

"What?" He asks through clenched teeth, as he smiles at a pair of girls from the Seam. I recognize them immediately as they swoon and smile flirtaciously back at him. They were not my favorite people. But then again, I'm Katniss Everdeen, and I'm not a 'people' person.

"We - I think we need to talk," I say.

"You _think_," he snorts quietly.

I sniff. I liked him better when he was nicer. "Yeah."

"_Now_ really isn't the best time," he snarks, "Maybe we could reschedule or something."

I glance up at him, unamused. The whole 'sarcastic' thing he's trying to work, doesn't suit him at all. "But later," I insist.

He rolls his eyes and doesn't reply.

"KATNISS!" Prim wraps her arms around my waist, and Peeta smiles gently at her.

"Guess I'd better learn to share, huh?" He smiles at my mother, politely. See? This is the preferable Peeta. My mother smiles slightly at him. He glances over his shoulder at his own family. "I think I'd better go," he looks at me, adoration appears on that mask of his, but I can see the look of utter dislike beneath it. "See you later?"

I kiss him on the cheek. "Okay."

His face reddens and I can't tell if it's part of the act, or if it's of fury, because in actuality I haven't been the nicest person to him, after all. He just smiles sheepishly and runs off, pretending to rub his cheek, thoughtfully. He's good at this game.

Snow won't find reason to kill him.

That thought comforts me. Barely.

"He's cute," Prim says slyly.

My God. My own family can't let me be my first fifteen minutes back home. I let out a long, exasperated, sigh. "Really, Prim? Really?"

She grins up at me, her blue eyes twinkling. "I'm so glad you're back home! I knew you could do it! I_ knew!_"

I pat her golden locks, fondly. "I tried, Prim. For you."

She sniffles as if she's about to tear up. "Oh, Katniss! You don't know how horrible it was to watch you almost get killed nearly every day!" I want to defend myself. Remind her that it was not indeed _every day _that I almost got killed. That I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. But that would be a lie. An ugly lie.

My mother hugs me briefly. "You made it home."

I nod slowly. "You've been well?"

"She's been excellent!" Prim boasts. "The Apothecary is doing better than ever!"

My lips quirk upwards, "Is that so?"

Prim nods enthusiastically.

"Hey, Catnip," a hoarse voice says from behind.

I brace myself. This is it. I turn to face him. "Gale."

He has his arms open, and an expectant expression on his face. There's a hint of doubt in his eyes though. Probably thinking about Peeta, the dimwit. Couldn't he tell it was fake? Didn't he know me better than to fall into the arms of a stranger?

Well, Peeta wasn't exactly a _stranger._

But Gale didn't know that.

I don't hesitate to walk into his open arms and allow my eyes to water. I didn't think I'd see him again. My perfect hunting partner. "You've been well?"

He chuckles. "Yeah._ You_?"

"Dodged a few lethal weapons here and there. But yeah. I'm okay."

This triggers something and we both completely lose it. He sniffs, as if he's too manly to cry, even though my eyes have obvious tears streaming from them. "Catnip," he says with a small smile. "I knew you could do it."

I don't know what forces me to say it, but I do. "I couldn't have done it alone."

His expression darkens and he quickly releases me. I try to amend my mistake. "How's Rory? Vick? Posy? Hazelle?"

"Fine."

The coldness that drips off of the word chills me to the bone. "...Gale."

"What," he barks, "Shouldn't you be with loverboy?"

"Gale," Prim reprimands, quietly. I hadn't even realized she was still here. For that matter, I hadn't even remembered my mother was still there, either.

His eyes bore into mine, and he ignores Prim. "Well?"

"I - I - "

"Look what I found!" Haymitch says gruffly, shuffling through the crowd. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, much to my dismay. He smells of alcohol, as usual, but this seems to hint at an especially cheap alcohol. He holds a book in the hand of his free arm. "A book about_ you_, Sweetheart!"

I laugh a little. "I don't have a book about me, you old drunk."

His nose crinkles slightly. "Course ya do! Here it is," he shoves the book into my arms, as if it offers any real proof.

I glance at the title. "The Hunger Games. Okay, Haymitch, I get how you would get the idea...that it was about me. Considering the games just finished and all...But, really, this book could be about anyone."

"Read the back," he urges, his voice only slurring the tiniest bit.

Gale seems to be impatient about our previous conversation. I take the distraction and read the back of the book. I let out a low breath of air, that could be identified as melodramatic gasp, and I look up at Haymitch. "How did you - "

"Get loverboy and let's read it," his eyes are examining mine.

I get his meaning at once.

Reading the book (_my _thoughts) and Peeta might see that I wasn't at fault, and things might go over smoothly. Resulting in a less angry President, and a better relationship with my fellow-victor.

I sigh. "Okay."

* * *

**Disclaimer:**

**All the following material (in bold print) belongs to Suzanne Collins, the author of The Hunger Games trilogy. I do not own, nor do I claim to own these stories. No copyright infringement intended. **

A fair warning to all you Peeta/Katniss and Gale/Katniss fans. The final pairing is _undecided._ **  
**


	2. Reading: Hunting With Gale Ch1 Pt 1

The final agreement ended up on meeting at my house. I pace nervously as everyone glances expectantly at me and Haymitch. He looks abnormally sober for...well _him_, so explaining the situation shouldn't be too difficult. Right?

Wrong.

"A book?" Gale snorts. "You want us to read a book?"

"A book about_ her_," Peeta looks skeptical, as well. I try not to cringe at his reference to me as 'her'. "This has _got _to be a joke."

I shiver at his uncharacteristic coldness. However, at Haymitch's glare, I take over. "Look, Peeta," he raises an eyebrow at my demanding tone. I ignore this. "If we read this, some problems can be solved..."_ I think_.

"What problems?" Gale demands.

Peeta glances between the two of us, warily. It was often that people seemed to think that Gale and I could channel each other. Peeta was not the first to notice our similarities, and I'm sure he won't be the last.

"Problems," I retort.

"How _vague_," he rolls his eyes.

"I think we should!" Prim chirps from her spot on the sofa.

I frown, "This is about The Hunger Games, Prim. You don't have to - "

"I want to," Prim says, though her lips are twitching downwards. "I...I have to know what you were thinking. How you...How you won," she glances up with a tiny smile. My poor sister. I'd give anything for her to have grown up in a better world.

"Well okay. It's decided then - "

"I didn't agree to anything!" Peeta protests.

Haymitch gives him a long look, "Sure you did, loverboy."

"Let's just get this over with," I groan, now unsure of my decision. I open the book and let out a deep breath,

**When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth but finding only the rough canvas cover of the mattress. She must have had bad dreams and climbed into bed with our mother. Of course, she did. This is the day of the reaping.**

Prim's uncertain smile falters. "It's_ that _day."

I nod, mutely, musing about my interaction with Gale, and wondering how Peeta would take it. I mentally slap myself. Why do I even care? I don't. I really, really, really don't care what Peeta thinks of my relationship with Gale. I don't.

**I prop myself up on one elbow. There's enough light in the bedroom to see them. My little sister, Prim, curled up on her side, cocooned in my mother's body, their cheeks pressed together. In sleep, my mother looks younger, still worn but not so beaten down.**

My mother raises an eyebrow at this.

I shrug sheepishly in return.

**Prim's face is as fresh as a raindrop, as lovely as the primrose for which she was named. My mother was very beautiful once, too. Or so they tell me.**

My mother makes a show of sighing loudly.

"You're still beautiful," Prim assures her with a contagious smile.

My mother shares a pointed look with Gale.

Yeah, it's not obvious who the favorite is. I roll my eyes.

**Sitting at Prim's knees, guarding her, is the world's ugliest cat. **

Prim's expression takes on a note of offence. "Buttercup is not - "

"That reminds me," I crinkle my nose, "Is it still alive?"

Prim glares at me for a moment before replying, "Of course!"

I try not to show my disappointment.

**Mashed-in nose, half of one ear is missing, eyes the color of rotting squash. Prim named him Buttercup, insisting that his muddy yellow color matched the bright flower. **

I snort.

"Something to say, Katniss?" Prim inquires with a fierce look.

"No," I mutter.

**He hates me.**

"Well you did call him ugly, Catnip," Gale quipped.

I elbow him, and hope it hurts.

**Or at least distrusts me. **

I glance at Peeta. Is that how he feels? He doesn't hate me? Just mistrusts me?

He catches my eye for a moment, before continuing to glare at his feet.

**Even though it was years ago, I think he still remembers how I tried to drown him in a bucket when Prim brought him home.**

Gale snickers.

Prim switches her firm glare to him, which causes him to falter.

I stifle my laughter. He was just scolded by _my_ little sister.

**Scrawny kitten, belly swollen with worms, crawling with fleas. The last thing I needed was another mouth to feed. **

I notice my mother frowning.

I can't help but feel that these future thoughts to come will be justified. She needs to hear this.

**But Prim begged so hard, cried even.**

Prim is blushing madly at this point, while Gale is rolling his eyes.

I sigh and sneak another look at Peeta, who seems disinterested.

**I had to let him stay. It turned out okay. My mother got rid of the vermin and he's a born mouser. Even catches the occasional rat. Sometimes, when I clean a kill, I feed Buttercup the entrails. He has stopped hissing at me. Entrails. No hissing. This is the closest we will ever come to love.**

"And here I was thinking you related so easily to cats, Catnip," Gale teases.

"And here I was still thinking you can't pronounce my name right, seriously Gale, it's been how many years now?" I smirk as his eyes narrow, mockingly.

I didn't notice the scowl that appeared on Peeta's face.

**I swing my legs off the bed and slide into my hunting boots. Supple leather that has molded to my feet. I pull on trousers, a shirt, tuck my long dark braid up into a cap, and grab my forage bag. On the table, under a wooden bowl to protect it from hungry rats and cats alike, sits a perfect little goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves. Prim's gift to me on reaping day. I put the cheese carefully in my pocket as I slip outside.**

"Where ya going, Sweetheart?" Haymitch questions.

I sniff, unsure of how he would react to my illegal hunting. I really doubt he'll care.

**Our part of District 12, nicknamed the Seam, is usually crawling with coal miners heading out to the morning shift at this hour. Men and woman with hunched shoulders, swollen knuckles, many who have long since stopped trying to scrub the coal dust out of their broken nails, the lines of their sunken faces. But today the black cinder streets are empty. **

"Of course," Gale comments. "It's reaping day. What would you expect?"

"I think I know," I reply as he winces. How well I would remember that day forever.

**Shutters on the squat gray houses are closed. The reaping isn't until two. May as well sleep in. If you can. **

Prim shudders, and I can only assume it's because of how close she came to being reaped.

**Our house is almost at the edge of the Seam. I only have to pass a few gates to reach the scruffy field called the Meadow. Seperating the Meadow from the woods, in fact enclosing all of District 12, is a high chain-link fence topped with barbed-wire loops. In theory, it's supposed to be electrified twenty-four hours a day as a detterent to the predators that live in the woods - packs of wild dogs, lone cougars, bears - that used to threaten our streets.**

"Why are you there?" Haymitch asks, only to be ignored.

**But since we're lucky to get two or three hours of electricity in the evenings, it's usually safe to touch. Even so, I always take a moment to listen carefully for the hum that means the fence is live. Right now, it's silent as a stone. Concealed by a clump of bushes, I flatten out on my belly and slide under a two-foot stretch that's been loose for years.**

Haymitch's lips twitch upwards. By golly, I think he's got it.

**There are several other weak spots in the fence, but this one is so close to home I almost always enter the woods here.**

**As soon as I'm in the trees, I retrieve a bow and sheath of arrows from a hollow log. Electrified or not, the fence has been successful at keeping the flesh-eaters out of District 12. Inside the woods they roam freely, and there are added concerns like venemous snakes, rabid animals, and no real paths to follow.**

Prim's expression grew to one of concern, as she'd never really realized that there were all these risks.

I place a hand on her arm and smile. _I'm right here... _

**But there's also food if you know how to find it. My father -**

My mother's face turns stony and cold.

Irritation bubbles up in me, but I let her work this out herself. I'm back now. Prim is safe. Things will be okay.

**My father knew and he taught me some before he was blown to bits in a mine explosion.**

My mother lets out a strangled sob.

I sigh and grudgingly continue.

**There was nothing even to burry. I was eleven then. Five years later, I still wake up screaming for him to run.**

Peeta glances up. "Sorry."

I look at him, surprised, "Thanks...?" What did you say to someone after that?

**Even though trespassing in the woods is illegal and poaching carries the severest of penalities, more people would risk it if they had weapons. But most are not bold enough to venture out with just a knife. My bow is a rarity, crafted by my father along with a few others that I keep well hidden in the woods, carefully wrapped in waterproof covers.**

**My father could have made good money selling them, but if the officials found out he would have been publicly executed for inciting a rebellion. **

_Rebellion. _Something about that word put me off.

**Most of the Peacekeepers turn a blind eye to the few of us who hunt because they're as hungry for fresh meat as anybody is. In fact, they're among our best customers. But the idea that someone might be arming the Seam would never have been allowed.**

Gale's eyes narrow at this.

I roll my eyes, and can pratically hear him think: _It would be easier for all of us if it was... _

**In the fall, a few brave souls sneak into the woods to harvest apples. But always in sight of the Meadow. Always close enough to run back to the safety of District 12 if trouble arises. "District Twelve. Where you can starve to death in safety," I mutter. **

"True," Gale agrees.

Peeta merely rolls his eyes. This pleases me and not for the reason that you might think. It means he's finally easing up. This is good. This is progress.

**Then I glance quickly over my shoulder. Even here, even in the middle of nowhere, you worry someone might overhear you.**

Gale grimaces, thinking about the conversation we were about to have. He would never forget that we had the opportunity to run...But if we had, then Prim would have been reaped, and...Things were destined to be awful, I guess.

I send him a reassuring smile.

**When I was younger, I scared my mother to death, the things I would blurt out about District 12, about the people who rule our country, Panem, from the far-off city called the Capitol.**

My mother nods with her eyes closed, as if remembering.

**Eventually I understood this would only lead us to more trouble. So I learned to hold my tongue - **

Haymitch snorts.

I glare in his direction.

**And to turn my features into an indifferent mask so that no one could ever read my thoughts. **

I catch Peeta's eye for a moment and he looks midly amused. Was I _that_ difficult?

**Do my work quietly in school. Make only polite small talk in the public market. Discuss little more than trades in the Hob, which is the black market where I make most of my money. Even at home, where I am less pleasant, I avoid discussing tricky topics. Like the reaping, or food shortages, or the Hunger Games. Prim might begin to repeat my words and then where would we be?**

"Two Katniss'...God help us all," surprisingly my mother says this.

I raise an eyebrow at everyone in the room, "Am I _that _horrible?"

The only response I get is a quick, "No!" from Prim.

**In the woods waits the only person with whom I can be myself.**

Peeta's eyes dart back to his shoes.

I wince as I can practically feel Gale gloating silently.

**Gale.**

"You can be yourself with me..." Prim mutters.

"Not about certain things," I reply sheepishly. "Whenever I mention hunting you scold me about killing innocent animals."

"True..." She reluctantly agrees.

**I can feel the muscles in my face relaxing, my pace quickening as I climb the hills to our place, a rock ledge overlooking a valley. A thicket of berry bushes protects it from unwanted eyes. The sight of him waiting there brings on a smile.**

Gale smirks.

I groan as Peeta looks up to glare at him.

So much for subtlety...

**Gale says I never smile except in the woods. **

**"Hey, Catnip," says Gale. My real name is Katniss.**

"Catnip sounds so silly," Prim comments with a soft smile.

"It sounds like I'm a five-year-old," I look pointedly at Gale.

He seems to be beaming at the turn of events in the book.

This is why I never 'like, _like' _boys. They're all annoyingly smug about stupid things.

**But when I first told him, I had barely whispered it. So he thought I'd said Catnip. Then when this crazy lynx started following me around the woods looking for handouts, it became his official nickname for me. I finally had to kill the lynx because he scared off game. I almost regretted it because he wasn't bad company. But I got a decent price for his pelt.**

"And that justifies it!" Prim cries out exasperatedly. "What if it were _Buttercup_?"

I give her a look, "If it were up to me, Buttercup wouldn't be alive."

"Katniss!" She shakes her head in disbelief.

**"Look what I shot," Gale holds up a loaf of bread with an arrow stuck in it, and I laugh. It's real bakery bread, not the flat, dense loaves we make from our grain rations. I take it in my hands, pull out the arrow, and hold the puncture in the crust to my nose, inhaling the fragrance that makes my mouth flood with saliva. Fine bread like this is for special occasions.**

Peeta looks skeptically at the book.

**"Mm, still warm," I say. He must have been at the bakery at the crack of dawn to trade for it. "What did it cost you?"**

**"Just a squirrel. Think the old man was feeling sentimental this morning," says Gale. "Even wished me luck."**

Peeta's expression darkens, and I sourly recall how his mother probably hadn't even wished him luck. I want to comfort him, but it would be awkward, as I'm uncertain if he hates me, or merely mistrusts me.

I simply just shoot him an awkward smile. I don't even know if he saw it.

**"Well, we all feel a little closer today, don't we?" I say, not even bothering to roll my eyes. "Prim left us a cheese," I pull it out. **

"Yes I did," Prim confirms.

I smile, sometimes it was nice when she acted like a child, it was almost as if she wasn't forced to grow up so fast, like I was.

**His expression brightens at the treat. "Thank you, Prim. We'll have a real feast." Suddenly he falls into a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket - **

Haymitch snorts, "That cow."

I stifle an amused chuckle.

**The maniacally upbeat - **

"Understatement," Peeta mutters.

I don't bother to stifle my laughter this time around. It really was an understatement.

**Woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the reaping. "I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" He plucks a few blackberries from the bushes around us. "And may the odds - " he tosses the berry in a high arc toward me.**

**I catch it in my mouth and break the delicate skin with my teeth. The sweet tartness explodes across my tongue. "Be **_**ever**_** in your favor!" I finish with an equal verve. We have to joke about it because the alternative is to be scared out of your wits. Besides, the Capitol accent is so affected, almost anything sounds funny in it. **

Gale smiles. "Good times."

"Yeah," I agree. Times before...I stop my train of thought before they get too depressing.

**I watch as Gale pulls out a knife and slices the bread. He could be my brother. **

"_What_?" Gale says in a ridiculously high voice.

I swallow an amused smile. "I probably meant appearance wise."

"Sure," he says, uncertainly.

**Straight black hair, olive skin, we even have the same gray eyes.**

"Oh," Gale says, as his expression brightens again.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes with great difficulty.

**But we're not related, at least not closely. **

"I thought you were cousins," Haymitch mutters.

I sigh. He was such a drunkard sometimes.

**Most of the families who work in the mines resemble each other this way.**

**That's why my mother and Prim, with their light hair and blue eyes always look out of place. They are. My mother's parents were part of the small merchant class that caters to officials, Peackeepers, and the occasional Seam customer. They ran an apothecary shop in the nicer part of District 12. **

"Can we skip this part?" Mother questions quietly.

"No." I answer firmly.

**Since almost no one can afford doctors, apothecaries are our healers. My father got to know my mother because on his hunts he would sometimes collect medicinal herbs and sell them to her shop to be brewed into remidies. She must have really loved him to leave her home for the Seam. I try to remember when all I can see is the woman who sat by, blank and unreachable, while her children turned to skin and bones.**

"I-I'm sorr-"

"Save it," I roll my eyes. "We don't have to worry about it anymore, right? Victor and all..."

"Right," she says quietly.

**I try to forgive her for my father's sake. But to be honest, I'm not the forgiving type.**

My mother looks sullen as her blue eyes age by the second. I wish she hadn't had to read _this _part.

"It's fine now," I assure her. Though a part of me still wants to blame her, I really can't. Not after being faced with death so often...I shiver. I didn't like where my thoughts were headed.

**Gale spreads the bread slices with the soft goat cheese, carefully placing a basil leaf on each while I strip the bushes of their berries. We settle back in a nook in the rocks. From this place, we are invisible but have a clear view of the valley, which is teeming with summer life, greens to gather, roots to dig, fish iridescent in the sunlight. The day is glorious, with a blue sky and soft breeze. The food's wonderful, with the cheese seeping into the warm bread and the berries bursting in our mouths.**

**Everything would be perfect if this really was a holiday, if all the day off meant was roaming the mountains with Gale.**

Gale looks particularly smug at this.

I resist the urge to throw something heavy at him.

**Hunting for tonight's supper. But instead we have to be standing in the square at two o'clock waiting for the names to be called out. **

**"We could do it, you know," Gale says quietly.**

My mother's eyes widen.

Looks like she's catching on.

**"What?" I ask.**

**"Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it," says Gale. **

"_What_!" My mother shrieks.

"We didn't do it," I point out, sheepishly.

She turns her glare to me, rather than a cowering Gale, "That much is obvious."

I try not to point out how hypocritical this is of her, as she wouldn't of cared before Prim was reaped, I don't particularly believe this would help my case.

**I don't know how to respond. The idea is so preposterous.**

I smile brightly in my mother's direction.

She just huffs.

**"If we didn't have so many kids," he adds quickly.**

**They're not our kids, of course. But they might as well be. Gale's two little brothers and a sister. Prim. And you may as well throw in our mothers, too, because how would they live without us?**

"Oh..."

"It's fine," I say, getting tired of having to repeat myself.

**Who would fill those mouths that are always asking for more? With both of us hunting daily, there are still nights when game has to be swapped for lard or shoelace or wool, still nights when we have to go to bed with our stomachs growling.**

**"I never want to have kids," I say.**

I wince.

Nobody but Gale understands why, and they all look at me strangely.

**"I might. If I didn't live here," says Gale.**

Prim smiles, "What would you name - "

"Not now," I mutter, cutting her off, while rolling my eyes.

**"But you do," I say, irritated.**

**"Forget it," he snaps back.**

**The conversation feels all wrong. Leave? How could I leave Prim, who is the only person in the world I'm certain I love? **

I gain wounded looks from Gale and my mother. _Joy_.

**And Gale is devoted to his family. We can't leave, so, why bother talking about it? And even if we did... Where did this stuff about having kids come from? There's never been anything romantic between Gale and me. **

Peeta looks pleasantly surprised.

I huff in annoyance. What is with_ them_?

**When we met I was a skinny twelve-year-old and although he was only two years older, he already looked like a man. It took a long time for us to even become friends, to stop haggling over every trade and begin helping each other out. **

**Besides if he wants kids, Gale won't have any trouble finding a wife.**

Prim seems to analyze the statement.

_As if_ there's anything to analyze. I mentally scoff.

**He's good-looking.**

Gale waggles his eyebrows irritatingly in my direction.

I kick him and he cringes slightly.

_Stupid boys._

**He's strong enough to handle the work in the mines, and he can hunt. You can tell by the way the girls whisper about him when he walks by in school that they want him. It makes me jealous -**

"Really?" Gale asks, skeptically.

"Let me finish," I roll my eyes.

**But not for the reason people would think. Good hunting partners are hard to find.**

* * *

This. Took. Forever.

Expect chapters to be done in 'parts' because this was annoyingly lengthy time-wise to write.

Anywayyyyyy.

POLL:

Katniss/Gale

Katniss/Peeta

Katniss/Cinna (YEAH I WENT THERE!)

Which tickles your fancy?


	3. Reading: The Reaping Ch1 Pt 2

Gale lets out a wounded mock sob.

I roll my eyes.

**Gale and I divide our spoils, leaving two fish, a couple of loaves of good bread, greens, a quart of strawberries, salt,** **paraffin, and a bit of money for each. **

**"See you in the square," I say.**

I grimace at the reminder of that fateful day.

**"Wear something pretty," he says flatly.**

"That was nice of you," Prim sniffs like a disapproving mother.

Gale snorts and rolls his eyes. "_Sorry_, Katniss."

**At home, I find my mother and sister are ready to go. My mother wears a fine dress from her apothecary days. Prim is in my first reaping outfit, a skirt and a ruffled blouse. It's a bit big on her, but my mother has made it to stay with pins. Even so, she's having trouble keeping the blouse clutched at the back.**

**A tub of warm water waits for me. I scrub off the dirt and sweat from the woods and even wash my hair. To my surprise, my mother has laid out one of her own lovely dresses for me. A soft blue thing with matching shoes.**

"Soft. Blue. _Thing_?" Mother and Prim ask, incredulously, together.

I shrug this off.

**"Are you sure?" I ask. I'm trying to get past rejecting offers of help from her.**

My mother huffs and mutters something about me being too stubborn.

**For awhile, I was so angry, I wouldn't allow her to do anything for me. And this is something special. Her clothes from her past are a very precious to her.**

"So are you," Prim reassures me.

I can't help but feel like it should've been my mother who said that. I just let it go.

**"Of course. Let's put your hair up, too," she says. I let her towel-dry it and braid it up on my head. I can hardly recognize myself in the cracked mirror that lies against the wall. **

**"You look beautiful," says Prim in a hushed voice.**

"As always," Gale says with a mocking smile.

Peeta and I scowl at the same time. For different reasons, I'm sure.

**"And nothing like myself," I say. **

"So stubborn."

"Yeah. Yeah I get it, Mom." I roll my eyes for good measure.

**I hug her, because I know these next few hours will be terrible for her. Her first reaping. She's about as safe as you can get, since she's only entered once. I wouldn't let her take out any tesserae. But she's worried about me. That the unthinkable might happen.**

Prim lets out a little sniffle. "And for good reason."

"I couldn't let you go, Prim," I answer simply.

She smiles weakly at me.

**I protect Prim in every way I can, but Im powerless against the reaping. The anguish I always feel when she's in pain wells up in my chest and threatens to register on my face.**

Prim's face contorts into an expression of gratefulness. "You...I didn't know that."

I just smile at her.

Things will be better now that the Games are done...I hope.

**I notice her blouse has pulled out of her skirt in the back again and force myself to stay calm. "Tuck your tail in, little duck," I say, smoothing the blouse back in place. **

**Prim giggles and gives me a small "Quack."**

**"Quack yourself," I say with a light laugh.**

Haymitch rolls his eyes. "Why couldn't you be that pleasant during your interview?"

"Because I hate the Capitol." I reply, ignoring my mother's protests.

**"Come on, let's eat." I say and plant a quick kiss on the top of her head. **

**The fish and greens are already cooking in a stew, but that will be for supper. We decide to save the strawberries and bakery bread for this evening's meal, to make it special we say. Instead we drink milk from Prim's goat, Lady, and eat the rough bread made from the tessera grain, althought no one has much appetite anyway.**

**At one o'clock, we head for the square. Attendance is mandatory unless you are on death's door.**

"Attendance could result in you ending up on death's door," Gale mutters.

I sigh, even though I know it's true.

**This evening the officials will come around and check to see if this is the case. If not, you'll be imprisoned.**

"It's a hell of a lot worse than that, Sweetheart." Haymitch says gruffly.

**It's too bad, really, that they hold the reaping in the square - one of the few places in District 12 that can be pleasant. The square's surrounded by shops, and on public market days, especially if there's good weather, it has a holiday feel to it. But today, despite the bright banners hanging on the buildings, there's an air of grimness. The camera crews, perched like buzzards on rooftops, only add to the effect.**

**People file in silently and sign in. The reaping is a good opportunity for the Capitol to keep tabs on the population as well. Twelve- through eighteen-year-olds are herded into roped areas marked off by ages, the oldest in the front, the young ones, like Prim, toward the back. Family members line up around the perimeter, holding tightly to one another's hands.**

**But there are other's, too, who have no one they love at stake, or who no longer care, who slip among the crowd, taking bets on the two kids whose names will be drawn.**

"Lucky bastards - "

"Gale!" My mother reprimands.

I snicker. He's been scolded by my mother _and_ Prim.

**Odds are given on their ages, whether they're Seam or merchant, if they will break down and weep. Most refuse dealing with the racketeers but carefully, carefully. These same people tend to be informers, and who hasn't broken the law? I could be shot on a daily basis for hunting.**

"_Katniss_," my mother and Prim groan.

"If you think that's bad, just wait," I make a face, remembering the Games.

**But the appetites of those in charge protect me. Not everyone can claim the same.**

**Anyway, Gale and I agree that if we have to choose between dying of hunger and a bullet in the head, the bullet would be much quicker.**

"You've discussed this!" My mother glares between Gale and me.

"Once or twice," he replies casually.

"And it's true," I add, only to receive my mother's glare.

**The space gets tighter, more claustrophobic as people arrive. The square's quite large, but not enough to hold District 12's population of about eight thousand. Latecomers are directed to the adjacent streets, where they can watch the event on screens as it's televised live by the state.**

My eyes narrow. These Games are_ sick_. Echoes of children dying play through my mind, and I brush them aside, quickly. The Games will come up soon enough, I'm sure. No need to bother wasting my time pondering their deaths, if I'm going to read about them soon.

**I find myself standing in a clump of sixteens from the Seam. We all exchange terse nods then focus our attention on the temporary stage that is set up before the Justice Building. It holds three chairs, a podium, and two large glass balls, one for the boys and one for the girls. I stare at the paper slips in the girls' ball. Twenty of them have Katniss Everdeen written on them in careful handwriting.**

"And it's still you who gets picked, unbelievable," I mutter.

Prim gives a weak smile, and I can tell that from here on in the story, this will be painful for her. I move so I am sitting nearest to her and wrap an arm around her shoulders. I place a quick kiss on her forehead.

She lets out a sniffle and nods.

I continue.

**Two of the three chairs fill with Madge's father, Mayor Undersee, who's a tall, balding man, and Effie Trinket - **

Haymitch lets out a snort. "Her again. I suppose she'll be in this story more often than we'd all like."

Prim glances questioningly between the glances Peeta, Haymitch and I are sharing. "She seems nice enough..."

"Key word is 'seems', Princess."

Prim doesn't seem disturbed by his nickname for her. I'm not sure whether Princess would be more perferable than Sweetheart.

**District 12's escort, fresh from the Capitol with her scary -**

"Face, voice, clothes," Haymitch suggests.

Peeta and I laugh freely.

**white grin, pinkish hair, and spring green suit. They murmur to each other and then look with concern at the empty seat.**

"I wonder where you are," Peeta snickers in Haymitch's direction. It's nice to hear him laugh, rather than see him scowl.

Haymitch appears to think carefully about this. "Better things with my time than training stubborn kids like you."

Peeta knows that he aimed that right at me, and laughs.

I scowl. I hadn't been the one who was laughing at his expense, yet he still finds it convenient to insult _me_.

**Just as the town clock strikes two, the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read. It's the same story every year. He tells the history of Panem, the country that rose up out of the ashes of a place that was once called North America. He lists the disasters, the droughts, the storms, the fires, the enroaching seas that swallowed up so much of the land, the brutal war for what little sustenance remained. **

**The result was Panem.**

**A shining Capitol ringed by thirteen districts, which brought peace and prosperity to it's citizens. Then came the Dark Days, the uprising of the districts against the Capitol.**

"_Urgh. _Can we skip this?" Gale asks.

_I'd like to. _

"No. Keep reading Katniss," Prim urges, and I'm not sure whether it's because she's truly interested, or because she's trying to put off reading about the reaping.

**Twelve were defeated, the thirteenth obliterated. The Treaty of Treason gave us the new laws to guarantee peace and, as our yearly reminder that the Dark Days must never be repeated, it gave us the Hunger Games.**

"Thanks a lot for that," Gale shouts, looking at the ceiling.

I sigh. "They can't hear - "

"Yes they can," he argues, sourly.

**The rules of the Hunger Games are simple. In punishment for the uprising, each of the twelve districts must provide on girl and one boy, called tributes, to participate. The twenty-four tributes will be imprisoned in a vast outdoor arena that could hold anything from a burning desert to a frozen wasteland. Over a period of several weeks, the competitors must fight to the death. The last tribute standing wins.**

There's a long pause.

"Or last two tributes standing," Prim corrects with a smile.

I fake a smile. _If only she knew that there was hell to pay yet... _

**Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch - this is the Capitol's way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy. How little chance we would stand of surviving another rebellion.**

The intense gaze that Haymitch is sending my way, makes me uncomfortable.

I squeeze Prim's shoulders slightly. She looks up and smiles. Almost instantly I feel at ease.

**Whatever words they use, the real message is clear. "Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen." **

"That's a bit blunt," my mother frowns, glancing around, as to make sure no one's listening.

I glance in her direction, "But you don't deny it's true."

Her silence is as good as confirmation.

**To make it humiliating as well as torturous, the Capitol requires us to treat the Hunger Games as a festivity, a sporting event pitting every district against the others. The last tribute alive recieves a life of ease back home, and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food. All year, the Capitol will show the winning district gifts of grain and oil and even delicacies like sugar while the rest of us battle starvation.**

"I hate - "

I didn't finish my sentence, as my mother's glare silences me.

**"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," intones the mayor.**

**Then he reads the list of past District 12 victors. In seventy-four years, we have had exactly two.**

"And not very impressive ones at that," I glance at Haymitch.

His eyes narrow in my direction. "Did you realize you're speaking of yourself right now, Sweetheart?"

I roll my eyes and hold my tongue. Sometimes this guy really gets to me.

**Only one is still alive. Haymitch Abernathy, a paunchy, middle-aged, who appears hollering something unintelligable, staggers onto the stage, and falls into the third chair. He's drunk.**

Said victor raises an eyebrow, "Anything else you want to bash me about, Sweetheart?"

"I'm sure there is," I smile sweetly, glancing back down at the page.

**Very. The crowd responds with broken applause, but he's confused and tries to give Effie Trinket a big hug -**

"You're right about one thing, Sweetheart, I must have been very, very, very, very drunk."

Peeta rolls his eyes. "Stop trying to hide it. You like her."

Haymitch shoots him a death glare. "If I ever feel anything but mutual dislike for Effie Trinket, kill me."

**Which she barely manages to fend off.**

**The mayor looks distressed. Since all of this is being televised, right now District 12 is the laughingstock of Panem, and he knows it. He quickly tries to pull the attention back to the reaping by introducing Effie Trinket.**

**Bright and bubbly as ever, Effie Trinket trots to the podium and gives her signature, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be **_**ever**_** in your favor!" **

Gale nudges me. "I think we do it better, huh Katniss?"

"Yeah," I agree. But only because the Capitol accent is stupid. I don't have anything - besides the fact she sent me to be slaughtered - against Effie Trinket. And other than she's a Capitol citizen.

Okay. So maybe I do have something against Effie Trinket.

**Her pink hair must be a wig because her curls have shifted slightly off center since her encounter with Haymitch. She goes on a bit about what an honor it is to be here, although everyone knows she's just aching to get bumped up to a better district, where they have proper victors, not drunks who molest you in front of the entire nation.**

"I didn't molest her!" Haymitch sounds slightly affronted.

I shake my head, "You were drunk. You wouldn't remember."

"And you _did _molest her. Kind of," Peeta adds.

**Through the crowd, I spot Gale looking back at me with a ghost of a smile. AS reapings go, this one at least has a slight entertainment factor.**

"Glad I could be of service," Haymitch snarks.

I roll my eyes.

**But suddenly I am thinking of Gale and his forty-two names in that big glass ball and how the odds are not in his favor. Not compared to a lot of the boys. And maybe he's thinking the same thing about me because his face darkens and he turns away.**

"I was," Gale confirms with an uneasy smile. "It's nice to know you cared.

"Of course I cared, you're my best friend!"

He simply continues smiling.

**"But there are still thousands of slips," I wish I could whisper to him.**

"That might of helped a little."

I give him a pained look, and we both know what's about to come.

Prim closes her eyes tightly and grabs my hand.

**It's time for the drawing. Effie Trinket says as she always does, "Ladies first!" and crosses to the glass ball with the girls' names. She reaches in, digs her hand deep down into the ball, and pulls out a slip of paper.**

Everyone knows what that paper says.

And it doesn't say Katniss Everdeen.

Prim squeezes my hand so tightly I think I might loose blood circulation, but it's worth it as long as she knows I'm here, that I'm okay, that I'm alive. Even if I technically shouldn't be.

**The crowd draws in a collective breath and then you can hear a pin drop, and I'm feeling nauseous and so desperately hoping that it's not me, that it's not me, that it's not me...**

**Effie Trinket crosses back to the podium, smoothes the slip of paper, and reads out the name in a clear voice. And it's not me.**

**It's Primrose Everdeen.**

"Katniss!" Prim lets out a soft gasp. "I - I - "

"If you don't want to read anymore I understand," I say softly into her hair, where I've buried my face. "But, really, Prim. It's okay. I'm here. I'm alive." _Though, I shouldn't be. _"Everything's going to be okay."

"I...Yeah," she says slowly. "Okay."

"Are you okay?" I lift my face to examine hers.

Her eyes are puffy and swollen and red from suppressed tears. She nods.

* * *

I skipped a few pages that involved Katniss and Gale hunting. Nothing important happened. I won't skip around anymore...I promise! 'Cause the story picks up from here, and there's much more action and much less build-up.

So some of you don't like the chapters in 'parts' and I have to agree. It must get annoying. So after this chapter 'part, I'll begin writing out the full chapters. It might take me a bit longer, though, just a fair warning.

Also. I didn't even consider Cinna/Katniss as a pair for this story :3 It was just a poll, really. But I might hint at it, because I love Cinna.

The pairing is still undecided and probably will be until the end of the story.

And for the suggestion of having Finnick, Annie, and Johanna read with them, I kinda like that idea, so I'll see what I can do to fit them in or something. You also mentioned Rue reading with them, and I hate myself for having to say this:

*Chokes back tears* (SPOILER ALERT IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE BOOKS WHICH WOULD BE INCREDIBLY UNLIKELY SEEING AS YOU WOULDN'T BE READING THIS STORY / End of rant )

Rue's dead. This takes place when they return home from the Games. I'll make sure to do something special when her death comes around in the book, though! 'Cause I love Rue as well and she'll never be forgotten.

- Sorry for this uber-long Author's Note. Just thought I'd let you in on some things, also I'd like to thank you for your reviews.

OH! And before I forget for the person who mentioned something about Haymitch. I've got nothing against him, really! I was just trying to show him as what he initially was, a drunk. But in this chapter I tried to show him interacting more with the characters. Hopefully you enjoy it. If not, constructive criticism would be nice :]

And this is the REAL end of the uber-long Author's Note xD

POLL:

Buttercup

or

Foxface

Who would you rather meet in person, or er, animal? Cat? I don't know. Who would you rather meet?


End file.
